That Certain Summer

by Irene Hannon

“Then I guess I’ll have to work on my patience. Not my strong suit, as I’ve admitted before, but I’ll do my best.” He leaned back and swirled his spoon through his custard, creating peaks and valleys. “You know, I may never quite grasp why you agreed to help your ex-husband after everything he did to you, but I admire the strength of your principles and your commitment to keeping your promises. Not to mention your caring and compassionate heart. And you know what? A woman with those qualities is worth waiting for.”

  Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she took his hand. “Thank you.”

  “I’m the one who’s thankful. Now let’s talk about the benefit.”

  They moved on to lighter, more impersonal topics as they finished their custard and he drove her home. And when he walked her to the door, he said good-bye with a simple squeeze of her fingers—though based on the banked fire in his eyes, he wanted more. Yet he respected her wishes, practicing the patience he claimed he didn’t have.

  And as she watched him drive away, gratitude overflowed in her heart for this soon-to-end summer so filled with unexpected gifts. She’d reconnected with a sister long lost to her. Solidified her bond with her daughter. Taken the initiative to advance her career. Her relationship with her mother had improved. And she’d been blessed with a second chance at love.

  All at once, Val’s comment this morning about miracles replayed in her mind. Unlike her sister, she’d always believed in them, though she’d never experienced one.

  But in these past few months, she’d witnessed many firsthand. In Val. In Scott. In herself. And somehow she knew that in the years to come, she would always think of that word in connection with this summer of grace, when so many lives had changed for the better.

  24

  Val stood on the bluff overlooking the river, the gentle breeze soft on her face. The expansive view was just as she remembered it from her many visits during that last year before she went away to college.

  In the far distance, the broad river narrowed to a silver thread. The patchwork fields were shades of gold and green in these waning days of summer, and the noonday sun—warm without being overbearing—illuminated the scene with a brilliant light.

  Now, as then, the height and panoramic vista uplifted her. By offering a clear view to the distant horizon, this spot had always seemed to speak of hope. And tomorrow. And God.

  So it was a fitting place to take the final step on her journey to the past—and the first step into her future.

  She looked at Karen, who stood on her left holding a single yellow rose. Her sister’s eyes reflected love and support and encouragement, and she telegraphed a silent thank-you back with her own.

  On her other side, David held a small trowel. Kindness and goodness radiated from him, and she felt the sting of tears.

  Thank you, Lord, for sending this wonderful man into my life. Thank you, too, for all the blessings you’ve given me this summer. Please be with me now as I close this chapter of my past.

  Val stroked the simple cardboard tube in her hands. It had taken her almost eighteen years to remove it from its dark hiding place. To expose it to the sunlight. To face her mistakes and find the healing redemption she had long sought.

  But now she could put it to rest forever.

  At Val’s nod, David went down on one knee and dug into the rich earth, creating a small trench four inches wide, twelve inches long, and six inches deep. When he finished, he rose and stepped aside.

  For a long moment, she stood there cradling the tube. Then she closed her eyes and spoke in the silence of her heart.

  My dear child, please forgive me. Please know that not one day has passed that I haven’t thought of you and loved you and regretted the life I stole from you. I now leave my one physical link to you in this beautiful place, high on a hill, where the gentle rains can fall on it and the golden sun can warm it. But I will never forget you. You will always be in my heart. And I promise that when we meet in heaven, I will hold you close, as I never had the chance to do on this earth. I will whisper the words of love that are written in my heart and belong only to you. But in the meantime, I commend you to God’s loving care. Good-bye, my little one.

  A tear trickled down her cheek as she knelt beside the small trench. She placed the tube inside and carefully scooped the dirt on top. After she patted it down, Karen handed her the rose, and Val set it on top of the tiny mound.

  She knelt there alone for another minute, her head bowed. But when at last she started to rise, she felt hands on both sides lifting her, supporting her. Then Karen and David enfolded her in their arms.

  No words were spoken.

  None needed to be.

  The very presence of these two special people said everything.

  As they returned to the car, David and Karen kept their arms linked with hers. And though it was unseen, Val keenly felt another presence as well. One that surrounded her . . . consoling her, forgiving her, filling her with hope.

  And as she walked away from yesterday, she was filled with a quiet certainty that this presence would remain with her for all her tomorrows.

  “You’ve had quite a week.”

  Val opened her eyes. From her prone position on the ground, the intense blue of the sky filled her field of vision . . . until David’s face moved into view as he leaned close to brush a strand of hair off her forehead with a gentle, lingering touch.

  “Yes, I have.” She reached for his hand as he sat back on the checkered cloth he’d brought for their picnic. His firm fingers entwined with hers, and as he gave a gentle squeeze, she released a soft, contented sigh.

  “Is that from exhaustion or happiness?”

  “Both. I think I could sleep for a month. Think about all I did in the past seven days. I interviewed at the high school here. I resigned from my job in Chicago. I closed up my condo and put all my furniture and personal stuff in storage. I moved back to Washington.”

  He leaned back on his elbows beside her. “You’re making me tired just listening to that litany.”

  “Think how I feel. I did all the work.”

  “But it was worth it, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah. More than.”

  He turned on his side and propped himself up with one elbow to trace the contour of her chin with a tender, whisper-soft touch. “I missed you, Val.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “I missed you too.”

  He checked the nearby playground where Victoria was swinging, then leaned close and brushed his lips over hers in a sweet, simple kiss that left her yearning for more.

  Backing off, he hovered a few inches away from her face. “Don’t look at me like that or I might have to kiss you again.”

  At the sudden, rough timbre of his voice, she gave him a teasing smile and played with a button on his shirt. “Is that a promise?”

  Grabbing her hand, he folded her fingers in his own and adopted a stern tone. “Stop that. My willpower is already stretched way too thin.”

  “In that case, I’ll be good.”

  His eyes darkened. “Oh, I have no doubt of that.”

  A jolt of electricity shot through her. Sizzled.

  Okay. Enough of this.

  She pulled her hand free and nodded toward Victoria. “We have a chaperone, remember?”

  “Yeah. Thanks for reminding me.” He sat up and leaned back against his palms, one ankle crossed over the other. “So . . . tell me how you’re settling in. You okay about living with Margaret?”

  Following his lead, she sat up as well and crossed her legs. “It’s okay for a while. She’s dropped a few broad hints that it could be a permanent arrangement, but I made it very clear the situation was temporary. As soon as I find an apartment, I’m out of there. I’m used to being on my own.”

  “Not too used to it, I hope. Because I have some other plans in mind.”

  Her heart skidded to a stop. Raced on. “We haven’t known each other long enough for this discussion.”

  “It doesn’t always take a lot of ti
me to know that a relationship is meant to be.”

  She plucked a clover, lifting it to her nose to inhale the fresh, sweet fragrance. “Maybe. But I’ve made other mistakes by being too rash. This time I want to be absolutely certain.”

  “I understand that. And I don’t intend to push. You need to sort out your new life, and the two of us have some logistics to work through. But I want to be very upfront about my own feelings and intentions.” He took both her hands in his, never breaking eye contact. “The fact is, I’ve fallen in love with you. I didn’t expect to. Or necessarily want to in the beginning. Yet it happened, and I’m not sorry. I’ll give you however long you need, but someday, when you’re ready, I’d like you to be my wife.”

  Her pulse began to hammer as she stared at him. “Is . . . is that a proposal?”

  “No.” His reply was prompt—and firm. “You’re not ready, and I don’t intend to rush you into a decision. I just want you to know where I’m coming from. And that someday, I hope in the not-too-distant future, I do plan to propose.”

  “Daddy! Val! Come see what I found!”

  It took several seconds for Victoria’s summons to register—and several more for David’s words to sink in.

  The man who had helped her transform her life wanted her to be part of his—for always.

  It didn’t get any better than this.

  “We’ll be right there.” As David called out a response, he rose and held out his hand. Val took it without hesitation, and in one lithe movement he pulled her to her feet.

  As they joined his daughter a few moments later, David lowered himself to her level.

  “Is that a cocoon, Daddy?” She pointed toward a small object attached to one of the branches of a bush.

  “Yes, it is.”

  The little girl turned to Val. “Daddy said this is where butterflies come from. Did you know that?”

  “Yes, I did.” Val dropped down beside her.

  “Can I wait here and watch it come out?”

  “It won’t happen that fast, sweetheart.” David inspected the cocoon.

  She studied it too. “How long will it take?”

  “Every type of moth and butterfly is different. Some are ready to come out in a couple of weeks. Some stay in all winter and don’t come out until the spring.”

  “You mean it might still be there at Christmas?”

  “Maybe. If the butterfly comes out too soon, its wings won’t be strong. And when it tries to fly, it will fall and get hurt. You wouldn’t want that to happen, would you?”

  “No.”

  “We’ll check it again on our next visit, okay?”

  “Okay.” She turned to Val with a hopeful expression. “Will you come with us too?”

  “Yes, sweetie. I’ll come.” Val smoothed back a stray strand of Victoria’s hair, then directed her gaze toward David. “And I have a feeling this butterfly might be ready to fly long before Christmas.”

  “Like an early Christmas present, right, Daddy?”

  David gave his daughter a hug, but his smile was all for Val. “Yes, honey. And it would be the best Christmas present of all.”

  Epilogue

  — Four Months Later —

  “They make a nice couple, don’t they?”

  At Scott’s comment, Karen shifted around to watch Val and David walk hand in hand to the wedding cake on display in the center of the small banquet room. Val was glowing, and David had eyes for no one but his bride. “Yes, they do.”

  “I like the symbolism of having a wedding on New Year’s Eve.”

  “I do too. Especially for Val. She’s on the brink of a new life in so many ways.”

  “It’s great that she connected at the high school.”

  “I know. The students love her, and I guess the administration does too. I wasn’t sure they’d go for the job-share thing she and that other teacher cooked up, but I think she’s as good at sales as she is at acting. With David adjusting his schedule too, they won’t have much need for day care.”

  “Family first. I admire their priorities.”

  “So do I.”

  Several successive flashes went off as the newlyweds cut into their wedding cake, and Karen clapped along with the other guests.

  As the applause died down, she turned to Scott. “Would you like some cake?”

  He reached for her hand. “To be honest, I’d prefer some time alone with you.”

  She squeezed his fingers. “That can be arranged.”

  With Michael now gone, her life, too, was on the brink of a new beginning. One she hoped would include this man in a much more significant way—as soon as possible. “Have I told you lately how much I appreciate all the Chinese takeout and errand-running and gymnastics-practice chauffeuring you did when I had to work late or deal with paperwork for Michael?”

  “You’ve mentioned it a few dozen times, I think.”

  “But you know what? I’m even more grateful for all the times you held my hand and offered encouragement after a really rough day. For listening to my angst over Kristen’s issues and my own struggles with anger and forgiveness. And most of all, for never pushing me to take our relationship to the next level while Michael was alive. I wouldn’t have gotten through this whole thing without you.”

  “Yes, you would. You’re a strong woman.”

  “I’m not sure I’m that strong.”

  “I am.” He leaned closer, and the embers in his eyes—the ones he’d kept banked all these months—suddenly burst into flame. “And as for thanks, I can think of one way you—”

  “Here you are, Karen.” Margaret bore down on them, interrupting in her usual imperious tone. “Val wants to take a family picture before they cut the rest of the cake. Come along. People are ready for dessert, and we don’t want to delay things.”

  Without waiting for a reply, she marched off toward the bride and groom.

  Karen gave an exasperated sigh. “Talk about rotten timing. Leave it to Mom.”

  A soft chuckle sounded close to her ear, Scott’s breath warm against her skin. “Go ahead. Duty calls. I’ll wait.”

  She shook her head. “You’ve done more than your share of that in recent months. I’ll be back as fast as I can.”

  Keeping an eye on Scott, Karen joined her family. Smiled as the photographer took photo after photo. Hurried back to the man she loved the instant she could escape.

  He rose as she approached, taking the hand she extended. “That didn’t take long.”

  “We rushed. Kristen was as anxious to rejoin Steven as I was to get back to you. Nobody should need the matron of honor for a few minutes.”

  “What do you say we find someplace a little more private?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  He led her out of the dining room and glanced down the hall toward the lobby of the private club. A cozy fire crackled in the hearth, and a small, vacant settee stood across from it.

  “That has our name on it.” He headed toward it with a purposeful stride.

  As they took their seats, he angled toward her, resting an arm across the top of the back. “This beats fighting for a bench at Mr. Frank’s any day.”

  “Ah, but that has its charms too. I remember one particular visit when we had to squeeze together on a sap-covered bench.”

  “I remember that too. Sap has had a fond place in my heart ever since.”

  She gave a soft laugh and scooted closer to him. “I do agree it’s hard to beat snuggling up in front of a crackling fire on a cold winter night.” She checked her watch. “Almost midnight. What a nice way to ring in the new year.”

  “Speaking of new years—and new beginnings—I have an announcement.” Scott didn’t change his posture or expression, but all at once a quiver of excitement stirred the air. “I have another new job.”

  Frowning, she tilted her head to look up at him. “But you already have several. Music director at church. Sax player with a jazz group. A full roster of students for private lessons. What more can y
ou take on?”

  “How about the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra?”

  She sent him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

  “My classical training was on the clarinet, so while you were otherwise occupied this fall I dusted off those skills and auditioned in November. An opening came up two weeks ago, and they offered me the job.”

  Her eyes widened. “But . . . that’s a world-class orchestra!”

  He sent her a look of mock indignation. “Are you saying I’m not good enough?”

  She nudged him with her elbow. “You know better. I’m in awe of your talent on the sax, and I’m sure you’re every bit as good on the clarinet. But why didn’t you tell me about all this?”

  “It might never have amounted to anything. Besides, you’ve had a few other things on your mind.”

  “Nothing that should have taken precedence over this! Scott, this is so . . . incredible . . . fabulous . . . wonderful . . . I can’t find enough superlatives to tell you how happy I am for you!”

  He gave her a slow smile. “There are other ways to express joy.” Confirming they were alone with a quick scan of the lobby, he pulled her into his arms. “I’ve waited a long time for this moment. So get ready.”

  “I’m more than ready.” She was reaching for him even before she finished her whispered reassurance. Throughout Michael’s last weeks, Scott had practiced the patience he’d claimed he didn’t possess, never pressuring her to give him time she didn’t have, settling for no more than a few stolen lip brushes that had offered a tantalizing hint of the passion he kept on a tight tether.

  But now, at last, it was time.

  And Scott’s kiss was everything she’d dreamed of.

  Tender, yet ardent. All-consuming. And filled with promise.

  When at last—and with obvious reluctance—he pulled back, she could utter only one word. “Wow!”

  “My sentiments exactly.” His voice wasn’t quite steady. Nor was the hand that touched her face. “I have something else to tell you too. The symphony will be going on a three-week European tour in April. I hoped you might join me at the end, in Paris. I can’t think of a better place for a belated honeymoon, can you?”